


you think you want me (but you don’t know what you’re getting into)

by jenniferxprentiss



Series: somebody that i used to know [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Lost Love, Mutual Pining, and they’re in a bar, elle in a leather jacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenniferxprentiss/pseuds/jenniferxprentiss
Summary: “Do you want a drink?”Truthfully, she didn’t — not after the day she had at work — but didn’t want to offend the man, felt her heart clench with guilt at the way he was looking at her with puppy dog eyes and lopsided half smile. She reasoned with herself that one drink wouldn’t impair her judgement too much, and it was rude to sit there without buying something, turned back to him with a small half smile.“I’ll take a glass of white wine… whatever you’ve got.”“I pictured you as more of a red girl.”“It’s funny that you pictured me as anything at all.”
Relationships: Elle Greenaway/Jennifer "JJ" Jareau
Series: somebody that i used to know [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946623
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	you think you want me (but you don’t know what you’re getting into)

**Author's Note:**

> hi! 
> 
> me? shipping another super rare pairing? more likely than u think. welcome to my “if Elle and JJ re-met in a bar but they have history from Elle’s BAU days” AU, hope u like it here

The rain poured down on her shoulders hard and fast, and JJ hurried down the road to the only open storefront she could find— a small place, the flashing of a neon open sign in the window the only indication that it was open. It was dark now, the evening chill setting into the air and deep into her bones, toes numb and feet soaked in her shoes that were less than appropriate for the weather. 

She shivered, soaked to the bone and hair clinging to her face, pulling the heavy wooden door open and stepping inside in a hurry. JJ shook the water from her head and arms, thoroughly drenched and chuckling under her breath at herself at the thought that it would help dry her off, even a little bit. 

There was a spot at the front door for jackets and a mat for shoes, and the regular patrons clearly had respect for the establishment by the way their shoes were neatly lined across the wall. She toed her own shoes off, bending to line them up on the plastic mat alongside the other pairs before shaking off her jacket and hanging it on a free hook. 

JJ took in her surroundings — from the peeling grey paint on the walls to the hushed chatter coming from further inside the establishment down the hall — felt her toes start to regain some of their feeling on the surprisingly warm linoleum as she padded her way down the hall and further into the bar. There was a sense of comfort she felt, though she had never been there in her life — something that came with the quiet chatter and dim lighting, a stark contrast to the typical bar scene of darkness and booming music. 

She padded down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the room, a small smile twitching the corners of her lips upwards despite the chattering of her teeth. JJ looked around the room, took in the friendly smile from the bartender and the few tables of middle aged patrons sharing a drink while quietly talking amongst themselves. There were a few people circling the pool table, captivated by their game of billiards. 

JJ’s breath hitched at the woman who was bent over the table, back to the doorway of the room. Her jeans clung to her curves in all the right places, shirt riding up slightly as she lined up her shot. She was a pro with the cue, flipped her curly dark hair over her shoulder before standing up and letting out a triumphant sound. 

For a moment, JJ almost thought it was someone she knew — not a random stranger in a bar she had never been to before — but she couldn’t help but feel a nervous flutter in her stomach at the thought. Pushing the thought from her mind, she forced herself to look away from the group at the pool table and move towards the bar, perching herself on the edge of a stool and allowing herself to look around at the room. 

“Can I help you? You don’t come here often, do you?”

The bartender’s voice was a stark contrast to his appearance — tone soft and kind, a hint of a southern twang behind his words while he stood well over six feet tall, his shoulders broad and arms strong. He smiled politely at her, pushed a clean hand towel across the wooden counter and motioned for her to dry her arms and face off. 

He waited for her to be done, arms folded across his chest and looking at her with an eyebrow cocked, lips curved into a perfectly sculpted smirk. His facial hair was patchy and short in an endearing way that somehow made him look boyish to her despite the fact that his eyes looked older, wiser. 

“Sorry, yeah, I’ve never been here before… just trying to get out of the rain.” 

“Make yourself at home.” He smiled, fingers tapping against the wooden counter. “Name’s Will — from New Orleans but settled down here about ten years ago and opened this place. And you?” 

JJ sighed, ran the damp towel over her face one last time before passing it back to him across the bar. She let her eyes wander to the wood under her hands, focusing on the scratches and dents. Her fingertips grazed the wood, finger digging into a particularly large dent before looking up at Will. 

“Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ. FBI agent, I’ve worked for the bureau for a little over a decade now.” 

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, then busied himself with wiping the bar down. Will didn’t seem to be a man of many words, and for JJ, that was okay. She didn’t intend on staying or intruding on the group of regulars, all in their respective corners talking amongst themselves — only intended on staying long enough to wait out the rain to make the rest of her walk less dreadful. 

“Do you want a drink?” 

Truthfully, she didn’t — not after the day she had at work — but didn’t want to offend the man, felt her heart clench with guilt at the way he was looking at her with puppy dog eyes and lopsided half smile. She reasoned with herself that one drink wouldn’t impair her judgement too much, and it was rude to sit there without buying something, turned back to him with a small half smile. 

“I’ll take a glass of white wine… whatever you’ve got.” 

“I pictured you as more of a red girl.” 

“It’s funny that you pictured me as anything at all.” 

The bartender — Will — busied himself with pouring her drink, boyish smile still tugging upwards on the corners of his lips. His hair was half in his face, hanging in his eyes as he poured her drink. It gave JJ the opportunity to look away from his gaze, turn over her shoulder and around the room again. There was an air of familiarity to the place despite having never set foot in the establishment — the comfortable, quiet chatter of the room giving her a sense of belonging. 

She turned back to the bartender, let her fingers brush over the scratches and dents in the wood top as she waited. He was taking his time, glancing up at her through his mess of wavy hair, smirk on his lips. After a moment, he put the bottle back on the shelf before turning to her and sliding the glass across the bar top. 

“So you said FBI, didn’t you?” He barely waited for her to take a sip, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Mhmm.” She swallowed, looked at him with an eyebrow raised in cautious skepticism. Most people, when they found out she was with the bureau, usually wanted some sort of confidential information. “Behavioral Analysis Unit, been there for over a decade.” 

“Hm, the unit name sounds familiar.” Will peered up over the bar, eyes connecting with someone behind JJ’s back. “Hey, Elle? Come up here for a second.” 

JJ felt her heart speed up and breath catch at the name of her former teammate. She tried to push away the nervous flutter in her stomach, the way her heart pounded. It was surely a crazy coincidence, most likely one of the older women that was sat around a table with her friends, not the girl from the pool table. 

“Will… what’s up?” 

She knew that voice anywhere, though it had been years since she last heard it. JJ nearly gasped, whipping around to where the woman stood behind her, dark hair curled and falling around her shoulders — a little longer than she remembered it being, but it suited her well. 

Her face was free of makeup aside from some lip gloss and mascara, her nose and cheeks dusted with light freckles. It was a side of Elle JJ could only remember from the few late nights they had spent in hotel rooms across the country together, curled up on the bed watching trash television and laughing at the men on the team. 

“Jennifer fucking Jareau. I wouldn’t have thought in a million years…” 

“You know each other?” Will’s lips were turned up in a smirk he couldn’t bite back, like he knew exactly what he had done. 

“Know each other? This is the JJ I told you about… from my bureau days.” 

“I had a feeling.” He smirked, nodded at a patron on the other side of the bar before turning back to the two women. “I’ll leave you two to it.” 

There was an awkward silence between them, and JJ was thankful for the dim lighting and quiet chatter of the patrons around them. She looked Elle up and down, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards — she looked good, the lines on her face deeper and more permanent, but there was an air of overall happiness and peace to her that JJ couldn’t remember seeing before. 

“You look good, Elle.” 

“As do you. Still working for the bureau?” 

“Yeah. What’re you doing now?” 

She assumed that there would be a bit of residual annoyance from Elle about the fact that she was still with the bureau following the events that ultimately lead to her leaving, but she only smiled warmly at JJ and took a sip from her own glass. It appeared to be a mixed drink, not the straight tequila JJ remembered from years prior. 

“I’m a therapist… I work primarily with domestic violence patients. If I can’t beat these sick fucks, I’m going to help everyone who gets out alive.” 

It was exactly what she expected Elle to be doing — making a difference in people’s lives for the better — and the thought brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to her heart. It was hard, after Elle left, especially before Emily arrived, and the empty spot in the unit had closed but the hole in JJ’s life never had. 

There truly was no one like Elle, and no matter how hard she had tried to forget about her or to replace her, the void remained. 

“Are you married yet?” Elle quirked an eyebrow at JJ, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from their professions. 

“No… never really found the right person.” JJ forced a half smile, remembered the conversations her and Elle used to have about life, love, and families. “You?” 

“Dated around here and there, never found the one. My heart had been elsewhere for a few years.” 

It alluded to their quasi relationship from Elle’s time in the BAU, and they both knew it. There was an awkward silence between them, both trying to pretend they weren’t looking each other up and down. JJ was as enamored by Elle as she had been all those years ago, but this time it was her maturity and calmness instead of her crazed enthusiasm. 

“Did they replace me with a woman? Hotchner refused to tell me.” 

JJ let out a breathy laugh at Elle’s words, shaking her head in disbelief. Of course she would care if her position was replaced by a male of female — she had always stressed the importance of having women in male dominated fields, was the one who taught JJ to shoulder past old white men and command a room with few words. 

“Yeah, though the position has been a bit of a revolving door through the years. Emily first — my best friend — and then she left so we got Alex, then Kate, then Tara… Tara stayed, even after Emily came back.” 

She made a noncommittal noise at JJ’s words, eyebrow cocked in an expression she recognized as satisfaction. Elle took another sip from her drink, leaning casually against the bar with a small smirk playing on her lips, something JJ was used to. Elle always carried herself with such confidence and professionalism, even outside of work, she wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t lost the swagger. 

“Rum and coke?” JJ nodded towards Elle’s glass, trying her best to make small talk, though she wasn’t succeeding. 

“No, just coke.” She took another sip out of her straw, and only then did JJ notice she lacked the glassy look of intoxication in her eyes. “I stopped drinking after I left… after it happened.” 

Her words carried so much hidden meaning, and JJ knew exactly what she was referencing. Randall Garner and the way he attacked her, left her in such a state of disarray for so long, her PTSD seeping into every area of her life — ultimately ending when she shot the serial rapist and resigned not long after. 

“Where did you go? After you left, I mean.” 

“Around, for a while. Stayed with some family out of town until it stopped hurting me so badly to be here. Then I came back, got my stuff, moved to California for a few years. Now I’m back… and I come here to beat these assholes at a few games of pool.” 

JJ let herself laugh at Elle’s flippant tone, smile turning into a somber one when she remembered the months after Elle’s resignation. She had left without leaving so much as a phone number or email address, only giving JJ a short goodbye before she walked out of the office for what was supposed to be forever. 

She had never thought in a million years that she would find her here, in a small little bar on the corner of the street JJ walked down every night. 

“I went by your old apartment for months, hoping to catch you out or to see you.” 

“I know… I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s really okay.” 

There was an awkward silence between them, JJ bringing her glass of wine to her lips and taking a long sip. She couldn’t help the violent shiver that passed through her body, her clothes still thoroughly soaked and freezing despite the towel Will had offered her when she first sat down. 

Elle pushed her drink across the bar, her eyebrows knit together into a look of concern. She took in JJ’s clothing for the first time — shirt clinging to her body and jeans sodden — before putting her card down on the wooden counter and motioning for Will to come over. 

“I didn’t even realize, you must be freezing.” 

“I’m okay, really. I just ducked in here to get out of the rain for a minute… I’m glad I stepped inside.” 

Elle was biting her lip, nose crinkled as though she was debating saying something. She slipped her leather jacket off her shoulders, lips curved up into a nervous smile as she handed it to JJ, motioned for her to put it on. 

“My apartment isn’t too far from here, you could come back and get some dry clothes… maybe stay for some takeout and a movie? Plus, I drove.” 

The proposition was nice, and much better than walking the rest of the way home in the pouring rain. She nodded, slipping her arms into the arms of Elle’s jacket and could smell the familiar mix of gardenias and strawberry shampoo — found herself immediately falling into a familiar memory from over a decade ago when they were younger and stupider, and JJ had fallen into the lake on a case. 

Her eyes were immediately drawn to Elle’s arms in her tank top, the way her shoulders were dotted with more freckles than she remembered — arms still as toned as they were a decade ago. She surely hadn’t lost the physique from when she was in the bureau years ago, still just as thin and toned as she was back then. 

“I don’t want to impose on your evening.” 

Elle took JJ’s hand with a surprising fierceness, a steely look in her eyes. She knew that look well, it meant not to test her — that she would ultimately get her way. 

“You aren’t imposing if I asked you to come.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

“I’m doubly sure. We have a lot of catching up to do.”


End file.
